In With the New
by Auntie Shred
Summary: Short Story: expanded and additional scenes for Lady's Man, season 8. Goren's POV. Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: The Law & Order characters are owned by Dick Wolf. No infringement of rights is intended. This story is written for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

As he quietly talked to the bartender, Bobby Goren kept glancing at his partner on the far side of the Lion's Head Pub. Alex Eames had her cell phone pressed to her ear and she was facing the window, but Bobby was sure she knew what he and the bartender were discussing: her. He was also sure she'd call him on it sooner or later.

She didn't wait long to do it. They were on their way out when she said, "I hope you found out everything you wanted to know. About me."

Bobby reached to open the door for her, but she caught the handle first and it opened it for herself.

"Everything," he said, smiling. "Bourbon?"

Eames turned in the doorway to look at him. She half smiled - maybe it was a surprise reflex. Bobby grinned even more widely. It was a rare thing to catch his partner off guard.

But her expression quickly became grim – as it had been for most of this investigation – and she took off toward the car at a brisk pace. She wasn't enjoying Bobby's little joke about her past drinking habits.

He paused on the sidewalk outside and pulled on his knit cap and gloves, giving her time to regain her composure. This wasn't her fault. The further they got into this investigation, the more Bobby despised ADA Kevin Mulrooney.

He'd disliked Mulrooney from the start. There were so many red flags about the man's behavior toward Eames that Bobby had promptly added Mulrooney to his suspect list. What happened between them seven years ago? As the investigation progressed, Mulrooney's actions only confirmed Bobby's first impression.

The items of evidence linking Eames to the crime were weak and obviously contrived, but she was too upset to interpret them objectively. As each clumsily placed clue was revealed, Eames tried to regain her personal equilibrium, but she couldn't look beyond.

Bobby suddenly stopped in his tracks and gasped in a lungful of icy air.

With a jolt he recalled his own angry floundering and loss of perspective last year, when he'd been implicated in the murder of his brother, Frank. Eames had been the one to shake him – figuratively - and get his mind right. Why hadn't he seen the parallel sooner?

Eames wasn't a suspect as Bobby had been, but she was obviously feeling the same frustration – it was like being caught in a swift current. Now it was his turn to offer a hand to get her onto a firm footing.

She was already sitting inside the SUV, and met his eye for just a second as he climbed in. She turned her upper body toward him, but didn't look directly at him.

"Those days," she said. "They were tough for me."

Bobby nodded, relieved that she was willing to talk to him. He'd never take anyone's side against her – surely she knew that!

She said, "I was trying to get my life back under control, but..." She shook her head.

"...always playing catch-up," Bobby added.

Eames' eyes darted to his shoulder, his hand, out the window. "I don't drink like that any more."

"I know. This place," he said, gesturing toward the bar. "It brings back memories?"

She still wasn't looking at his face. "Nothing I want to hold onto." She took a deep breath and became more businesslike. "What I want to know is who's dredging all this up, and what does it have to do with Boz Burnham?"

Bobby was sure he knew the answer, but he needed Eames to get there on her own. If she wasn't willing to tell him how far her relationship with Mulrooney had gone, then she wouldn't be able to see how far Mulrooney had fallen since that time. Bobby would have to provoke her at some point to open her eyes – but not yet.

She started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "Let's get back to MCS and see if we can find this Gabby Roth."

"Okay." He paused a moment. "Eames?"

She replied with a lift of her eyebrows. "Mmm?"

"When we're done with this, let's go somewhere for drinks. A new place."

She nodded. "No bourbon."

* * *

Bobby watched his partner from across the squad room. Eames sat at her desk, chin down, determinedly pounding away at the keyboard. It was late, but she'd been grinding through Kevin Mulrooney's booking paperwork for an hour, only pausing for coffee.

As soon as the handcuffs were on him, Mulrooney had stopped talking altogether. The DA's office immediately sent another ADA to question him, but he'd remained defiantly silent. Bobby didn't care if he never opened his mouth – they had sufficient evidence to convict him of Burnham's murder.

There was also probably plenty of evidence he'd broken into Eames' home. Earlier, Captain Ross told Eames he was sending a CSU team to her house in the morning, and advised her to stay at a hotel overnight. She'd taken it stoically, but Bobby saw her fists clench as she listened to the Captain.

Everything in Eames' posture and expression indicated anger and stress as she continued typing. Half an hour ago Bobby had suggested they could finish in the morning, but she'd chased him away with a glare.

"Eames," Captain Ross called from his office door. He beckoned to her and then looked across the squad room. "You too, Goren."

Bobby entered the office after his partner. Neither sat down. She moved as though she was sore and stiff all over.

"So," the Captain said, "Mulrooney finally spoke: he wants a lawyer, but he refuses to be assigned one from night court." He shrugged. "Can't blame him there – he'd better not try to claim insanity. Anyway, he's going to sit in holding overnight. Don't spend any more time on his paperwork tonight. Understood, Eames?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Did you book a hotel?" Ross asked.

"Not yet," she said. "I figure I won't have any trouble just walking in."

"One more thing," Ross said. "The CSU guys arrive at nine tomorrow – you might want to be there ahead of them."

"Got it," Eames said. She strode out of the office.

Bobby sensed that Ross wanted to ask how Eames was doing, so he hurried out into the squad room after her. It was a useless question. Ross already knew she was strong; she just needed time to recover her balance. There was no need to discuss it.

She was already pulling on her coat as he approached. "You want to get that drink now?" she asked.

"Absolutely." Bobby was glad she'd remembered his offer. Considering all the grief he'd put her through during this investigation, he was glad she was willing to be seen with him. He grabbed his binder, slung his coat over his arm and followed her toward the elevators.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Uhh... Where are you staying? We can pick a place close to your hotel, so you won't have to drive."

She poked the call button for the elevator. "Good idea, but I'm not going to drink that much. I haven't given a thought to finding a hotel. I, uh... I don't know."

Bobby studied her. From the droop of her eyelids he bet she hadn't had a good night's sleep since they were first called out.

Eames rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "Damn! I don't even want to think about what he touched, where he went... I hate this!"

"Eames, can I-?" The elevator opened at that moment – there were a few people inside.

They stood in a corner of the compartment, half turned toward each other. All the way down to the parking level she stared blankly at the coat hanging over his arm. As the elevator descended, Bobby settled on a plan for the evening and the next day.

When they got off the elevator he followed Eames for a few yards, then gently caught hold of her arm.

"I have an idea," he said.

It was another indication of her exhaustion that she only looked up at him questioningly, rather than snapping out a sharp retort.

"Do you want to stay with me?" he asked. He loosened his grip and lightly rubbed her arm. Eames was running on grit, adrenaline, and caffeine – when they ran out she might crash hard, and Bobby wanted to be there to help her.

She shook her head as she tucked her scarf inside the collar of her coat. "Thanks, but NYPD's picking up the tab - no expenses spared and all that. How can I pass it up? Besides, I happen to know your spare bed is an old mattress you throw on the floor."

"It's not that old, but..." He'd expected she would refuse. "Anyway, there's a bar and grill that opened in my neighborhood. I haven't been there yet, but I hear the burgers are good. Want to take a chance on it?"

That finally produced a smile. "Sounds good," she said.

He handed her his binder as he put on his coat. "You can park at my building – it's walking distance. And there's a hotel not far from me – a Holiday Inn."

She frowned. "I need get home tomorrow before CSU gets there. I'd rather-"

Bobby cut in. "I think I should be there, too. This way we can drive out to your place together."

She slowly shook her head, and then shrugged. "I'm too tired to argue – let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

They were returning from the bar – which they'd agreed was worth another visit – and the cab had just turned onto Bobby's street. Eames grabbed his wrist, pushed a bill into his hand, and closed his fingers around it.

It was a twenty dollar bill. Bobby tried to give it back to her. "Eames-"

"You have to let me pay him," she said, shoving her hands into her pockets, "since I'm the one who wouldn't walk four blocks in the cold. Plus, you paid for dinner and drinks."

As soon as the vehicle stopped she jumped out. Bobby paid the cabbie and joined her on the sidewalk, where she immediately started pulling him toward the building entrance. The wind was strong; the cold cut right through his warm layers.

"Come on!" Eames shoved him. "I'm already freezing and it's only ten feet to the door!"

He smiled and handed her his keychain. "How're you feeling?" he asked. "Besides cold, I mean."

"I'm not drunk." She stabbed a key at the front door lock and missed, then missed again.

Bobby chuckled and reached over her shoulder to take back the keys. She wasn't even using the right one.

"I'm not!" Eames said, a little too loudly. "I'm just... not fit to drive yet - and I'm cold! Are you going to open that door, Goren?"

They finally got inside. Bobby steered her toward the stairwell.

"Why are we walking? Is the elevator broken?"

"You know it's only one floor," he said. "The exercise will warm you up."

"So, you're trying to tell me there's no heat?"

Bobby tilted his head to look closely at her: she wore a mischievous grin. It might be partly due to the alcohol, but he guessed she was feeling she could finally put the painful investigation behind her. While they were at the restaurant Eames had steered the conversation to safe topics; neither of them had brought up Mulrooney's name.

Once inside his apartment she dropped her coat and scarf over the nearest chair and headed into the kitchen. Bobby hung up both of their coats. "You're feeling better," he said.

"Hmm. Ask me that tomorrow morning after nine o'clock." She filled the tea kettle at the sink and set it on the stove to heat. When she turned back toward him she rubbed her hands together. "I need to tell you about Kevin and me."

"Not if you don't want to."

"I think I do. Want to, that is."

Bobby went to the cabinet and brought out two mugs, the sugar bowl and the box of tea bags. He watched Eames rummage in his refrigerator for the little yellow container of lemon juice. She wasn't entirely relaxed, but after looking so tense and grim throughout the investigation, this was definitely a step in the right direction.

He moved aside the small stack of mail and papers on his kitchen table, and when the tea was made they sat across from each other.

Eames cradled her mug with both hands, and gazed into the steaming tea. "It's a good idea for you to come with me tomorrow. Just thinking about him in my home..." She shuddered.

"Alex..." Bobby slid his hand across the table to touch her arm as a way of encouraging her.

She took a sip of her tea. "During the Jenny Burnham investigation I knew I was grieving," she said, "and I tried to keep my perspective. With Kevin, it started out talking about the case over drinks – there were other people with us the first time we went to that bar. And then... well, I knew he was interested. I should've..."

She stood up, ran her fingers through her hair, and took a couple deep breaths.

Bobby saw her agitation increasing, so he reached out again and circled her wrist with his fingers. "You didn't do anything wrong," he said.

She shook her head and pulled away from him. "I was stupid! For crying out loud, he planted false evidence! The guy was a snake back then, but I didn't suspect a thing. I trusted him... I told him things..." Her voice choked, and she spun to face the cabinets. She spread her hands to either side and leaned on the counter.

Bobby rose and stood beside her. "What you did wasn't stupid. It's natural to trust the people we work with – we need that trust to do our job." He laid a hand on her neck – her skin felt cool. "Nobody else suspected him, either. It's all on him, not on you or anyone who worked that case."

Her head dipped a little lower, and her hair blocked Bobby's view of her face. "I know, but... I'm finally seeing my problem," she said quietly. "After Joe, I kind of subconsciously – or at least I never thought about it directly – whatever, I assumed there'd never be anyone else for me. At first it was because I didn't want anyone to take his place. It felt... disloyal."

She was describing a normal response to losing a spouse. Bobby didn't reply, and kept his hand resting lightly on her back. She seemed to be more comfortable telling her story without looking at him, which was also very understandable.

Eames continued. "I couldn't admit it, but I went into relationships expecting they wouldn't last – I didn't want them to be serious. That's why everything failed eventually." She turned her head and finally made eye contact. "I didn't even have to read your psych books to get that. And by the way, don't tell me you figured this out a long time ago – I know you did, but don't tell me."

Bobby smiled, but still didn't speak. He'd known.

She turned toward him a little more. "So, uh..." She cleared her throat. "I wish I could say I sensed Kevin was treacherous, but it was just my auto-fail system kicking in – that and dumb luck."

"Well," he said, gently pushing her hair behind her ears, "it's good you didn't... didn't let it go any further with him. You said the relationship soured – I think your subconscious mind rejected him for a good reason."

Eames shook her head sadly. "No, see, my subconscious mind has been the reason no one ever stayed," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "Good or bad, I drove them all away."

Bobby set his hands on her shoulders. "I stayed – does that count?"

Eames tried to grin as she looked up at him, but in two seconds her eyes filled with tears. As he'd anticipated, she'd finally reached the end of her stamina. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her.

She didn't resist – in fact, she leaned heavily into his embrace. Bobby could tell she was fighting against the tears; he rubbed her back as she tried to slow her breathing and gain control of herself. He wished he had a handkerchief to offer her. The roll of paper towels was within his reach, so he tore one off and tucked it into her hand.

That earned him a half-crying chuckle and a slap on his side. "Thanks." She blew her nose, took a deep breath, and said, "It does count – thanks for that, too." She pressed her cheek against his chest and hugged him firmly. "Really, Bobby – thank you. I know I've been pretty hostile – I'm sorry. You did the right thing."

He tightened his arms around her. He'd always believed she was the one who should be thanked for staying in the partnership. It was more than a little gratifying to realize Alex needed him, too.

"But speaking of staying," she said, "I should get to the hotel."

"Don't you want to finish your tea?" Bobby asked. He didn't release his hold on her and he noticed that she was still resting against him without attempting to move away.

"Hmm. I did go to all that trouble to get the lemon and sugar just right..."

* * *

It was close to an hour later when Alex finally pulled on her coat.

"Give me a call after you check in, okay?" Bobby said. He snatched her scarf from the coat hook as she was reaching for it. He wound it loosely around her neck and tucked in the ends.

She attempted a frown, but Bobby saw she was pleased. "I was going to say I'd give you a call in the morning," she said, "when I check out. But okay, I'll call tonight, too."

Bobby had touched her more in one evening than he usually did in a year. It was addicting – he wanted more. Apparently Alex did, too, since she was the one who reached out to hug him this time.

He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "You're okay?"

"I think so," she replied. "Thanks, Bobby – for everything. It feels like I've done spring cleaning – long overdue spring cleaning. Out with the old, and all that."

He moved away enough to see her face, and then impulsively leaned down to kiss her cheek. When she smiled and touched his jaw he kissed her full on the mouth.

Alex returned his kiss, but just as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss she drew back. "Bobby..." Her eyes were shining with tears again.

"You could stay," he said, and then held his breath.

There was a long pause as she met his gaze. "Oh, I'm going to stay," she said, smiling broadly. "You, too – we stay together, right?"

Bobby understood her meaning. He was disappointed for the moment, yet her words gave him hope. "Right," he said, nodding.

She said, "I really need to get to that hotel..." Alex slid a hand up to his neck and drew him down for another long, sweet kiss. When they finally parted, she pulled her car keys out of her pocket.

Bobby kept a light grip on her arms. He didn't want her to leave yet. "Can we... um, would you like to..."

"Go out?" She smiled warmly. "Yeah, I think it's time we try that, too. I'd love to go to the bar and grill again."

He felt a big grin spreading across his face. "We'll go soon."

"And don't expect me to cry in your arms all the time," she said. "I'm reverting to my usual cranky self. Wait till you see me with the CSU guys."

Bobby reluctantly opened the door for her. "See you tomorrow, Eames." His usual parting words were now full of promise.

"Yep." Eames brushed her hand teasingly across his chest as she left.


	3. Chapter 3

Eames closed her front door forcefully after the last CSU technician left. "I need to get out of here," she said, still facing the door. It sounded as though she was talking through clenched teeth.

Bobby had been impressed with her self control. As the techs swarmed through her home, Eames crossed her arms and quietly watched, responding tersely but civilly when they had questions. He knew she was livid, but she kept a calm exterior.

It was bad: they'd found Mulrooney's fingerprints just about everywhere. He'd focused his attention on her personal belongings – her clothing and toiletries – but he'd also gone through her kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator, even her trash.

"We can call a professional cleaning service," Bobby said. "I know somebody in the business." The CSU team had done a rudimentary clean-up, but the surfaces they'd checked for fingerprints still showed black smudges. Throughout the house Eames' possessions were displaced and dirty.

"I feel like burning it all," she said.

Bobby wanted to hold her, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't welcome any tenderness just now. When she turned back toward him the anger in her eyes confirmed that she needed an outlet for her fury. An idea popped into his head.

"Let's, um," he said. "Let's go to the batting cages."

She barked out a laugh, but wouldn't smile. "I would have said the shooting range, but that's a good idea, too. I still feel like burning everything he touched. I want to know how the hell he got my access code. The techs said his prints were on the alarm keypad unit – only on the right numbers!"

"He must have been watching you," Bobby said. "I think... from the house for sale across the street – it's empty... We need to get a warrant to check for his prints there, too."

She rubbed her forehead and shook her head angrily. "Damn!"

He checked the time. It was nearly one o'clock; they'd had coffee and bagels on their way to her home, and nothing since. He was glad to work with her on the clean-up, but at the moment he was certain she had to be feeling as hungry as he was. A decent meal would improve her spirits. A few steps toward reclaiming her home might help, too.

"Um..." He thought quickly. "Give me a minute," he said, striding to the kitchen. He opened the dishwasher and started stacking in plates, glasses and utensils.

Eames watched him from the doorway. "That's enough - don't overload it," she called. "Why are you doing that, since I don't have clean cabinets or drawers to put them away? The soap's in the cabinet under the sink." She pointed to Bobby's left.

Bobby got the machine started and turned to her. "You can use them right out of the dishwasher for now. And..." He waved his hand in the direction of her bedroom. "Your clothes. Pick what you need for a couple days, and we'll take them to the dry cleaners for one-hour service. Do you have a drop-off bag?"

She nodded briefly and started down the hallway. But at her bedroom door she halted. "I feel like that guy from 'My Fair Lady'," she said, "who keeps saying, 'Damn! Damn! Damn!'"

"Henry Higgins," Bobby replied. "It's really from a play: Pygmalion."

"Seriously, Bobby, look at this disaster area. Where do I even start?" Eames spread her arms wide. "The bed linens, the comforter, all the stuff in my closet! Between Mulrooney and the CSU's, I'm not using any of it till it's washed or dry-cleaned, and even then... Oh my God, he used my make-up!"

She took a step toward her dresser, and pressed both fists to her mouth. "I'm... my skin is crawling. If they find his prints on my toothbrush, so help me...!" She looked over her shoulder at Bobby – she was furious. "Get a trash bag – it's all got to go."

By the time he returned Eames had donned latex gloves and was grimly picking through items on her dresser. The tension that had gripped her throughout the investigation was back in full force. He held the plastic trash bag as she dropped in brushes, make-up and lotions. She only kept things that seemed unopened or were washable.

Eames reached for the wedding photo of her and Joe. The black dust showed fingerprints all over the frame and glass – probably Mulrooney's. For a second, Bobby thought she might throw it into the trash bag, but she darted around him to the bathroom. She reemerged with a damp face cloth, wiping the picture thoroughly.

"It's time to put this away, I guess," she said. "I actually stopped looking at it a long time ago; it was just habit to keep it there, you know?"

Bobby took the photo from her to look at the image of a young, carefree, smiling Alex. She was still beautiful now, though not as carefree. He handed it back to her. "You'll never forget Joe."

Eames nodded as she carefully laid the frame face up on the bed. "I still love him, but... I don't miss him any more. Come on, I have to clear out the medicine cabinet." She looked at Bobby with a frown.

As they filled the trash bag she fluctuated between cursing Mulrooney and reminiscing about Joe until her phone rang.

"Eames," she said, and mouthed the word "Captain" to Bobby. "They left about twenty minutes ago..." Her eyes flashed angrily. "Everywhere in the house... Okay, I will." She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "...I don't think that's– ...Yes, sir... I understand..." She looked angry again. "He's helping me clean up the mess the CSU team left... I'll tell him... Yes, sir."

She snapped her phone closed. Bobby had a good guess what the Captain had told Eames, but he waited for her to speak. He was still holding the trash bag; he tied it off and took it to the kitchen to go out.

She stood in the kitchen entrance, a hand pressing against each side of the doorframe. "I've been removed from the case," she said.

Bobby used his foot to push a kitchen chair back into place. "Why bother, when we already made an arrest?"

"Because I'm now a victim," she said, with bitter emphasis. "You get to be senior partner, and Ross will sign off as your supporting detective – on all the paperwork I typed up!"

"Sorry. It's, it doesn't-"

"Meanwhile, Mulrooney gets the satisfaction of knowing he made me look weak to the NYPD once again."

"No, Alex..."

"Look, let's just get out of here."

Their eyes met for a few moments. Bobby understood the captain's desire to avoid the appearance of impropriety, but it was too late to make the change. Eames had worked the entire investigation - it was impossible to pretend she hadn't.

"Okay." He turned to the sink to wash his hands. "We should get something to eat," he said. "You choose the place."

He was still rinsing his hands when Eames pushed against his side and stuck her hands under the faucet to begin washing, too.

"Don't use that towel," she said, nodding her head toward the one hanging near the sink. "Get a clean one from that drawer. Oh, damn! If there is a clean one, that is. I really, really hate this!"

Bobby pulled out a fresh dish towel, which did look clean. He dried his hands and handed the towel to her. He stayed at her side, rubbing her back lightly.

"I'm just so..." she said, exhaling loudly. "I have the worst headache - and I just threw away all my ibuprofen and aspirin!"

"We'll, um, stop at the drug store first; then we'll get something to eat." He fingered the ends of her hair, pleased when she didn't pull away or stop him.

"No: drug store first, then the dry cleaners," she said, "then your friend's cleaning business, and then we eat."

"Do you still want to go to the batting cages?"

"Definitely – I need to hit something. And I need to eat - I'm starving. And I have to get this place inhabitable again." She patted his stomach. "If I'm starving, you must be, too – I stole part of your bagel this morning."

* * *

"It's no trouble," Bobby said. "I'll stay a while, and we can-"

"No, it's okay," Eames said. "There's not much I can do until tomorrow, when the cleaners finish... I hope. They're going to have to do some serious magic here."

They'd cleaned enough space in her kitchen to sit at the table and eat their take-out supper. Eames now had new make-up, toiletries and clean clothes to get through several days. She'd decided to stay in a hotel for one more night. A representative from the cleaning service had come and made an estimate of the work to be done; he'd promised to have a team here the next morning.

Bobby was reluctant to leave. It didn't matter that their day together hadn't run smoothly – Eames had vented her anger on him a few times. He understood her frustration and was glad she trusted him. She'd been less lavish with touching and flirting than last night. He didn't care. It felt wonderful to be able to help her and spend personal time with her.

"How – how about if we check for canned goods and things you can keep?" he asked. "You don't have to throw everything out."

"Bobby, I talked to the guy about that. The cleaners will take care of it." She stood up. "I'd just as soon get out of here until it feels like home again."

"Right." Bobby didn't want to insist. It wasn't about cleaning the house – he was simply hoping to spend more time with her. He slowly rose from the table.

She slipped on her coat. "So, tomorrow... Ross told me I could take the day, but I might as well come in. Forget what he said about taking me off the case. I can get him to change his mind."

"You always do," he said with a smile. He admired his partner's ability to defy their Captain without setting off his temper. Bobby reached for his coat, sorry that their time together was ending. "So, um, I'll see-"

"It's kind of early," she said. "Do you want to go to a movie or something?"

What? Bobby spun to look at her. "A movie? You mean... Um, a movie?"

"Yeah, I'll stay at the Best Western in town, and there's a movie theater a little ways down the street from it."

Bobby felt his mouth hanging open; he closed it. She wasn't sending him away? "O-Okay, uhh..."

She grinned at him and came closer. "Bobby, did you think I would kick you out just like that?" She rested her hands on his arms. "Thanks for staying and getting me through this day. I probably wouldn't have actually burned down the house, but I felt angry enough to do it. By the way, if you're so eager to help, I'm going to be doing a ton of laundry this weekend."

Once again acting on impulse, Bobby slid his arms around Alex. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her mouth.

Once again, Alex kissed him in return but drew back before he was ready to stop.

"Easy there," she said, touching her fingers to his lips. "Save that for when we're at the movie."

* * *

THE END


End file.
